No Matter What They Say
by Demonized AO3
Summary: Life hadn't been kind to them, not in the slightest, and when they had leapt off of the Qliphoth neither of them had expected to be thrown back into their seven year old bodies. It would seem like a gift from the gods, this second lease on life, but they know better. There were no gods. Only demons and humans, and they were right there in between the two.
1. Chapter 1

Having been in the Underworld before (for a few-ish years) Dante feels like he knows what it _should_ look like and it really shouldn't look like his childhood bedroom. Dante also knows that the Underworld has quite a distinct smell to it, one that's somewhere in between a burning trash heap and something that's been long dead, and _that_ is noticeably missing from whatever this might be. _Definitely not the Underworld,_ Dante thinks to himself as he takes a good long look at the achingly familiar surroundings. Maybe a dream of some sort but that notion is quickly dissolved with a hard pinch to his forearm, which also assures him that he is most certainly awake…and he is very much alone.

Dante frowns as he turns, doing a complete check of the room—which isn't changing in the slightest—looking for his brother who should have been right behind him, only Vergil is decisively not here. Not here in _Dante's bedroom_ at least. It takes Dante a moment to realize that he can _sense_ Vergil—faintly, like his senses have been muted—and that Vergil is heading closer to him.

If there is one thing that Dante can be certain of—aside from the fact that this is _not_ the Underworld—it's that Vergil has to be behind this, whatever it is. Vergil had grown the Qliphoth at the doorstep of their childhood home after all—the fact that he had been split into two separate entities be damned—so why wouldn't he do something like _this?_ The question is why though? Dante is sure that they had finally started working out their differences—with a bit of a push (bitch slap to the face) from Nero—so this feels quite like a betrayal and it hurts. It angers him.

Dante tries to call on Devil Sword Dante as he whirls around to face his bedroom door, right in time for Vergil to burst through it, only his Devil Arm doesn't come. It simply _isn't_ and he so shocked by _that_ that it takes him more than a few seconds to realize that there's something else very wrong with this picture. Namely that Vergil doesn't look anything like Dante remembers not even a few minutes ago, back when they had both been on top of the Qliphoth. In fact, Vergil looks like a kid and Dante… well, it certainly isn't very hard for him to figure out that he's the same height as Vergil. _That _could only mean one thing.

"What the fuck did you do this time?" Dante shouts as he launches himself at Vergil, not caring that he doesn't have his Devil Sword Dante or any of his Devil Arms. Dante knows that his fists will be more than enough to beat Vergil's ass and he certainly doesn't care that they look like kids. He's not giving it any thought as he manages to just catch Vergil on his chin.

Vergil twists out of the way with a snarl that is reflexive, his eyes flashing with wariness as he takes a step back from Dante to put some space between them. "I don't know all that you apparently think I'm capable of, Dante, but something of _this_ caliber isn't within my capabilities," Vergil states lowly with a bit of a growl to his voice. It sounds a little weird because Vergil definitely sounds the way that he looks, which seems to be about seven years old, but there is no mistaking that tone. That is one hundred percent Vergil. "And why on earth would I do something that would affect _us_ in such a manner, little brother?"

On some deeper level, Dante knows that Vergil couldn't have done this, wouldn't have done something like this, but after everything Dante has been through because of Vergil—how Vergil had disappeared on him right before they had turned eighteen, the whole debacle with Temen-ni-gru, the heartache of Mallet Island and finally the shit show that had been the damned Qliphoth—Dante isn't letting go of his hurt and his anger so easily. "_Us?_ There is no us, Vergil. _You_ saw to that when you fucking left me."

"I didn't want to leave you, Dante." There is a flicker of something in Vergil's eyes as he speaks, a pain that Dante doesn't want to acknowledge. "But I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."

"Like you _ever_ gave a damn about me, you fucking asshole!" Dante hisses angrily at Vergil, twenty-five years' worth of hurt marking his voice. "All you cared about was getting more power to-"

"-protect you! I did **everything** for you, Dante! All of it so that I could keep you safe from Mundus and every other demon that would have hunted us down because of who we are!" Vergil actually raises his voice for once and Dante is so stunned by it that it takes him a few seconds to process Vergil's words, to process that in his own fucked up way that Vergil really does care for Dante. "You have always been _my everything_, Dante, and I regret all that you had to go through because I hadn't been strong enough to keep you safe."

The silence that follows is disconcerting, absolutely deafening in its totality, while Dante stares at Vergil—still processing Vergil's words, how broken he had sounded, and the way that his expression had twisted with such remorse. It is so uncharacteristic of Vergil—just like the yelling—that Dante's anger slips away, his own expression becoming stricken as all he is left with is confusion and that painful, aching hurt.

"**What** is going on in here, boys?" The voice that breaks the silence has Dante's blood running cold and Vergil looks likewise affected, his face paling rapidly while panic blooms in his eyes. Neither of them moves because with that voice comes an old, familiar presence that feels absolutely _suffocating_. "Vergil." Vergil flinches at the sound of his own name, his eyes going wide while that panic becomes full-blown fear. "Dante." Dante flinches as well, a pit forming in his stomach as he turns to look at what should be impossible.

"Well shit." Dante can almost feel the grimace that Vergil gives while he stares at their very much alive father. Sparda scowls as he looks at each of them in turn, his gaze sharply cutting back to Dante for his choice in words but Dante currently doesn't give a damn because Sparda _should _be dead. Or vanished. Or whatever the hell it was that had happened to him. "You know what, Verge, you are absolutely right. _You_ would never do something like _this_. Mundus, however, would."

The temperature in Dante's bedroom—this is looking to be more and more legit, which scares the hell out of Dante—plummets while their should-be-dead-or-something-like-it father narrows his eyes at the mention of Mundus' name, his human guise dropping away. Within the blink of any eye, Sparda has them both held aloft by the backs of their necks, his fangs bared with a thunderous growl. "Who are you and what have you done to my children, demons?!"

Dante thinks that maybe, just maybe, it had been a bad idea to bring up Mundus if this is how their father is going to react. Still, he's a little glad that Sparda simply didn't kill them outright—_that_ really would have sucked—and is simply accusing them of being body snatchers or something like that. "So, uh, this might sound kinda crazy but we're definitely your kids…from about thirty-five years in the future, possibly thirty-six. Depends on how close it is to our eighth birthday."

Sparda focuses his bright scarlet and pupil-less gaze on Dante as he speaks, which is admittedly very unnerving, and his demeanor seems to calm a little. Dante knows that it won't stay that way when it gets out that both Sparda and Eva have been dead for just as long if this is really and truly what he thinks it might be. There's no sense in delaying the inevitable, however, and one good look at Vergil tells Dante that his brother probably isn't going to be doing much of the talking.

Dante gets it, he doesn't want to admit to dear old dad that he had killed Vergil—granted that Vergil had been under Mundus control because Vergil had been too fucking stubborn to ask Dante for help and had failed to mention any of his plans back when they'd been in an actual fucking relationship—but he's gonna bite _that _bullet. "I'm not a hundred percent certain as to what happened but you vanished on a mission a few weeks before we turn eight and Mundus sent a horde of demons to attack Red Grave City the day after our birthday. Mom was killed in the attack and we had gotten separated."

Sparda is slow to set them down, his grip on their necks loosening only for his hands to shift around to a shoulder on each of them. The Legendary Dark Knight drops down onto a knee, kneeling almost between them, then gathers them both to his chest. It's not something that Dante was expecting, not from a demon, but then this is their father who has proven that he is unlike any other demon.


	2. Chapter 2

Vergil doesn't quite know what to do other than stand, frozen with fear, where Sparda had set him down. It's been a little over twenty-five years since he's been touched with any sort of affection and he certainly hadn't been expecting the hug that Sparda gave them. It is more than unexpected—it is unusual from what little he can remember of the Legendary Dark Knight though Sparda had always been unusual for a demon—never so openly affectionate—but Vergil currently isn't thinking about that. Instead, he is focusing on the choking, clawing fear that has beset him, trying to tamp it down and get it under control.

It does help a little when Sparda finally lets go of them, their father drawing back to look them over again. His human guise slips back into place, the transition somewhat jarring to watch, and his expression is wrought through with worry and sorrow and just a touch of remorse. "Forgive me, I had to be certain of your identities but I… Well, I don't quite know what to say."

"I think there's a lot of that going around right now," Dante says with quite a meaningful look towards Vergil. There's a flicker of something in his eyes, too quick for Vergil to make out at the moment and then Dante shifts his focus back to Sparda. "Magic really isn't something I ever bothered with but I do know enough to know that something like this requires _a lot_ to pull off and that it could very well be impossible to undo so _we_ are stuck here and, well, I don't know what happens to the _us_ that was originally here."

"Gone," Sparda admits, his voice just barely above a whisper. "If it's the spell that I'm thinking of then they are gone forever." The grief in Sparda's expression grows and he looks away from Dante, instead shifting his gaze to the floor. "And it cannot be undone."

Vergil looks down at his hands with a slight frown and slowly curls his fingers until his nails start to bite into his callus free palms. It is a horrible thing to live with, knowing that the Dante and Vergil that belonged here are no more and if Mundus is truly responsible for this… "We need to kill Mundus."

"And just how do you propose to do that, Vergil?" Dante asks with a note of bitterness to his voice that has Vergil looking at him. Dante seems to be on the cusp of saying something else but then he pauses and the look he gives Vergil is that same one of hurt from earlier.

"_We_ will need to raise Temen-ni-gru and reclaim the Devil Sword Sparda if we are to have any hope of doing so," Vergil answers softly, not quite able to meet Dante's eyes. Vergil doesn't want it to seem like this will be a mere repeat of everything they've already been through—he's almost certain that this will be how Dante views it—so he's scared of what Dante's reaction might be to this necessary step in killing Mundus with no thought to how their father might take it.

"The Devil Sword Sparda does contain a considerable amount of my power but removing it would severely weaken the seals maintaining the barrier that is keeping the realms separated," Sparda states, his voice low and grave.

"Hate to break it to ya, dad, but Vergil is right. I fought Mundus to a draw by myself using the Devil Sword Sparda and I was twenty-eight at the time." Dante's words have Vergil looking up at him in shock, partly because he can't believe that Dante is actually agreeing with him but mostly because the fact that Dante had fought Mundus at any point in time is news to him.

There is a gap in Vergil's memories during which Vergil knows that he had been enslaved to Mundus but nothing more than that. Vergil can't remember why he had chosen to cut those memories out with the Yamato, can't for the life of him remember _why_ he did it, but now he is starting to think that he might have been too hasty in doing so. Vergil gets the feeling that something had happened while he was under Mundus' control, something important, and he can't help but think that it has something to do with Dante. Just how much more hurt has Dante suffered because of him?

"Then I shall go and reclaim the Devil Sword Sparda," Sparda says after a moment of quiet contemplation.

"You can't!" Dante exclaims, which earns him a puzzled look from their father. "Not right away," he quickly adds with a look towards Vergil. "We-"

"_I_ raised Temen-ni-gru when we were nineteen," Vergil interrupts softly, his gaze once again going back to the floor. "There was a human _aiding_ me who, at the time, I had thought could be of use to me to remove the seals that you had placed on Temen-ni-gru."

"Did you know that bastard had murdered his own wife and a bunch of innocents so that he could become a demon?" Dante asks angrily before Vergil can say anything else.

"I had my suspicions but I ignored them because there were more important things at stake," Vergil confesses bitterly. "Had I known of his intentions to try and claim the Devil Sword Sparda for himself I would have killed him from the outset." That Arkham had been able to fool him is still a sore point for Vergil, if only because he should have known better. Vergil should have known about the importance of the girl, something that Arkham had kept hidden from him, yet Vergil had been too fixated on what he had thought was necessary, to the point that he had been blind to anything else.

A soft, almost indiscernible noise from their father has Vergil glancing up to find Sparda frowning deep enough that his forehead is creased and his brows are knitted together. Sparda's disapproval is nearly palpable and he doesn't have to say anything for Vergil to know his thoughts on the matter of how he would have dealt with Arkham if he had known of the man's intentions. Vergil knows that their father prefers to find a resolution that doesn't involve killing but sometimes there is no other option. Like their current situation with Mundus.

"How'd you end up working with him anyway?" Dante's tone is far more subdued with his next question and he even sounds a little curious as he focuses on Vergil.

"Arkham had known about my demonic heritage and that I was seeking more power so he approached me about resurrecting Temen-ni-gru. _He_ knew of its history and how to break the seals containing it and that I would get father's power by doing so," Vergil answers with his gaze slightly averted from Dante's.

"So you wouldn't know where to find him to keep him from killing Lady's mom and from going after dad's sword?" Dante presses on, his newest question giving Vergil pause at the sheer brilliance of it. Removing Arkham from the equation before he becomes a problem would be more than ideal except there is only one problem.

"I do not," Vergil responds with a faint frown and a gentle shake of his head.

Dante turns to their father who has been silent so far for this part of the conversation and gives him a look that can only be construed as hopeful. "Maybe you could find Lady and her mom to warn them about him?"

"I could if I had more information about them to go on," Sparda answers tentatively, his expression softening with the turn in the conversation.

"They are descendants of the mortal priestess whose blood was used to seal Temen-ni-gru," Vergil explains and it seems to strike a chord in their father because Sparda gives a sharp inhale with the reveal of _Lady_ and her mother's relation to everything. "Arkham had kept that to himself along with the fact that their blood was needed to break the final seal."

"That changes things," their father states with a dangerous edge to his voice and a glance at Sparda reveals an expression like the one he had worn when he had thought them to be someone else. His human guise remains intact but it is obvious that he is angry. Rightfully so it would seem.


	3. Chapter 3

"There's still more, like how I ended up fighting Mundus alone and a few things that are _important_," Dante says weightily as Sparda moves to stand up, making him pause and look to Dante again. _Well, here goes nothing,_ Dante thinks to himself even though he isn't quite prepared to recount his time on Mallet. "So, before we get to all of **that** you should know that I didn't exactly see eye to eye with Vergil at Temen-ni-gru."

"There's no need to mince words, little brother," Vergil says lowly, his gaze still averted from Dante, like he can't stand to look at him. "You were angry at me."

"Yes, I was angry and I was hurting because you had disappeared on me for nearly an entire year without saying a goddamn thing to me so I said and did things to lash out at you because of it when I saw you again! And then you had the fucking nerve to stay in the Underworld and I didn't know if you were dead or alive and I wished for the longest time that I had followed you! Maybe then Mundus wouldn't have gotten control over you and _I_ wouldn't have **killed** you on Mallet!" Dante starts to shake about halfway through, his eyes stinging and vision blurring with the tears that are threatening to fall. Dante is beyond the point of caring about whether he's crying or not, all that _is_ important is that Vergil is looking _at_ him again.

Vergil _stares_ at Dante, in fact, his mouth slightly agape as a multitude of emotions flit across his face. Most prominent is surprise, like Vergil hadn't known about what had happened on Mallet but then Dante recalls the pseudo-demonic entities—Vergil's nightmares Griffon's likeness had said—that had followed _V_ around. Of course Vergil wouldn't remember the events of Mallet, and likely the time he had been under Mundus' control, because Vergil had cut those memories—nightmares—out when he had split himself in two with Yamato and hadn't reabsorbed them in the end.

"**What?!**" Sparda booms out with a slight echo to his voice while his human guise drops once more. There is an air of alarm to the Legendary Dark Knight as he first looks from Vergil to Dante and then back to Vergil again. "Please tell me it isn't so, that Mundus didn't…" Sparda can't seem to finish voicing the question, to even put it into words, his demonic visage becoming stricken.

"I don't know how long he had control over Vergil or that I was fighting Vergil on Mallet until I had struck the killing blow," Dante answers apprehensively, worry worming its way through him at their father's reaction.

"Nine years. If we-you were twenty-eight at the time then I was Mundus' slave for nine years." Vergil's voice is flat as he speaks, his gaze once again dropping to the floor while he stands almost ramrod straight, hands at his side.

Sparda bows his head, his entire form trembling with what Dante can only interpret as rage while his energy manifests as jagged bolts of violet electricity around him. Dante had thought that Sparda had been angry before but _this_ in on an entirely different scale.

"If it is any consolation I do not remember my time under Mundus," Vergil adds, almost as if it were an afterthought. "And being that I had cut those memories out with the Yamato I do not know if I might ever remember those years."

"It would be for the best if you don't regain those memories." Sparda's voice comes out softly despite his apparent anger and his energy slowly begins to dissipate. "And I will deal with Mundus as I should have from the very start."

"But we-"

"No! Absolutely not! I forbid both of you from concerning yourselves with Mundus!" Sparda thunders as he lifts his head and fixes his gaze on Dante.

"You cannot deny us the right to face him, _father_," Vergil states frostily, drawing their father's gaze towards himself. "In fact Dante and I have a stronger claim to that right seeing as you spared Mundus and did nothing to rectify your _mistake_."

Now it is Dante's turn to stare at Vergil—partially in disbelief, mostly in shock because Vergil had talked back to their father, was actually challenging Sparda. Surely there has to be a repercussion of some sort for that and Dante really didn't want to be dragged into the middle of it even if he does want to have another shot at taking Mundus out. Dante is just about to open his mouth to say something to that effect when Sparda throws his head back and _laughs_. Their father is _laughing_ and Dante doesn't quite know what to make of the situation anymore.

"Well played, Vergil," Sparda praises once his laughter subsides. "But both of you are years away from being able to properly face Mundus," their father adds in a far more serious tone. "And while I still have breath in my body I will not allow you to concern yourselves with Mundus. You may challenge me for that right if you wish but know that you have no hope of ever defeating me, not even if you and your brother were to work together."

"So you are going to ignore the Demonic Code?" Vergil asks with an icy edge still to his voice.

"Yes," Sparda states in a firm tone. "And this issue shall not be discussed any further."

"Fine. As you wish, father," Vergil seems to acquiesce though he looks like he wants to keep arguing his point.

Dante frowns to himself, not even sure as to what had just transpired between Vergil and their father. Demonic Code? Dante has never heard of such a thing but then Dante had never cared to learn about demons or anything to do with them beyond how to kill them. That doesn't make this Demonic Code any less real and it seems like it's important so maybe, just maybe, he should actually try to learn about it. Preferably on his own so he didn't have to hear the snarky, underhanded comments that Vergil would likely make, and so their father wouldn't be disappointed in him for not knowing it in the first place.

"I know that there is probably more that you wish to tell me but you have already given me much to think about so we shall stop here for today." Sparda's human guise slips back into place, the Legendary Dark Knight wearing a rather somber expression, and he slowly rises to his feet. "I shall take a measure of your skills tomorrow to see where you stand and then I shall construct a training regimen for both of you. It will be difficult and you will receive no leniency but worry about that tomorrow. Today is your seventh birthday after all and your mother has been working hard on the preparations. Both of you shall attend and you shall not speak a word about any of this to your mother. Do I make myself clear?"

Dante distinctly doesn't want to go, not even to see Eva after all of this time, but he knows that there isn't any way for him to get out of going to his own birthday. "Yes, sir," he half-mutters and Vergil echoes Dante barely even a second later, his voice much clearer.

"You have an hour. Use that time to get ready and do not be late." Sparda doesn't wait for a response, assured that Dante and Vergil will do as they are told, and leaves them there in Dante's bedroom.

Another disconcerting silence settles over them and this time it somehow seems worse to Dante. Worse because his scars weren't really scars to begin with. Dante had never let himself truly heal, if at all, and this was simply renewing those old wounds. Dante's thoughts also seem to be growing inordinately loud and he wants nothing more than for them to just disappear—for his thoughts to be silent like how Vergil currently is before they swallow him up.

"_You have always been __**my everything, **__Dante, and I regret all that you had to go through because I hadn't been strong enough to keep you safe."_

Why does Dante think of those words now? Why do they crowd out the rest of Dante's thoughts? Dante doesn't want to think about them, doesn't want the accompanying ache that they bring—another wound made fresh—knowing that if he had tried a little harder, had been a little stronger, had taken that fall with Vergil then… Vergil wouldn't have fallen to Mundus. Vergil wouldn't have been Mundus' slave for _nine years_. Dante wouldn't have **killed** Vergil. His own _everything_. His other half.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dante," Vergil calls out softly and for a moment it seems like Dante hasn't heard him. Dante appears to be lost in thought, staring at where their father had been, tears still clinging to his lashes. Part of Vergil wants for him to reach out to Dante, to gain his attention, but he hesitates.

Whether it's because Dante did actually hear Vergil or because he's taken notice of Vergil staring at him, Dante shifts his focus towards Vergil and smiles. "Dad told us to get ready for the party so we shouldn't waste time, big bro."

That smile gives Vergil pause because he can finally see just how empty it is, see it for what it is—mask that Dante wears in an effort to hide his pain. The only problem is that Vergil has finally witnessed the extent to Dante's pain, or so Vergil believes, and so he can't be fooled by that smile. Nor will Vergil dismiss the lingering tears. Still, prying information out of Dante right now doesn't seem to be the best idea. "Then I shall be back in a few minutes."

It is not an ideal amount of time but there are things that Vergil needs to talk to Dante about before anyone else. Namely Nero and the _circumstances_ concerning his conception. Vergil is loathe to think about it, had been hesitant to admit it when Dante had prodded for some sort of tidbit back atop the Qliphoth. These few minutes will give Vergil the time he needs to hopefully prepare himself to tell Dante that he-

"What for?" Dante's tone is bordering on harsh and panicked with his question, causing Vergil to pause as he makes to leave and glance at Dante over his shoulder.

"Did you not want to keep an eye on me, Dante?" Vergil does his best to keep his voice gentle all while reminding Dante of what it was that he had declared before taking that leap off of the Qliphoth. "And we need to talk anyways."

"There's nothing to talk about and there's no point in keeping an eye on you," Dante states hastily making Vergil blink before arching a brow. "Look, we're here, we're **seven** and mom and dad are both alive. There's no sense in _us_ dwelling on the past." There's no way that Dante could possibly mean that, he doesn't even sound like he means it but Vergil isn't going to push the issue just yet. Dante clearly needs more time and so Vergil will give it to him. "I'll see you at supper," Dante adds with another empty smile.

"If you are certain." It is nothing more than an attempt to placate Dante for the time being because at some point they will need to talk, whether Dante wants to or not. Vergil accepts the faint nod that Dante gives him and leaves, shutting the door behind himself on his way out.

Now that Vergil is totally alone he takes a moment to pause just outside of Dante's bedroom door to gather his thoughts and get a handle on his own emotions. That choking, clawing fear from earlier is gone, thankfully, but it is the fourth time Vergil has ever experienced it though it was nowhere near as intense as the second and third times. Dante—his little brother, his beloved, his heart and soul—is the only one capable of evoking a fear in Vergil that is so utterly consuming that he had done everything he could to keep Dante safe and yet Vergil had failed in doing so.

Dante had always seemed so unflappable, even a bit cheeky, in the face of his trials and through it all he had maintained _that_ smile. That painfully empty smile. Had Dante cried back then too? Vergil cannot recall Dante shedding any tears at Temen-ni-gru even though that smile had been prevalent. Atop the Qliphoth, however, there had been that smile and… Vergil had thought that he had imagined it at the time, seeing tears in Dante's eyes. A mere trick of the light.

Vergil hadn't wanted to believe it but Dante's tears had been there all along as they had crossed blades, glimmering like diamond dust in the early morning light. Faint whispers of salt that Vergil had picked up on with how close they had gotten while fighting, the scent unique from sweat and basal tears. They were real and now, after everything, Vergil wonders why they might have been there to begin with. For what reason would Dante have to cry other than the fact that he would have had to kill Vergil again? It is the easiest conclusion that Vergil can come to but he much rather hear it from Dante himself than making such an assumption and being wrong.

Vergil is tired of being wrong. So very tired of failing in the one thing he had set out to do. This only serves to make him more resolute in seeing to it that he talks with Dante. To make certain that their bitter past doesn't repeat itself. To make certain that there will be no further misunderstandings between them. To…

Vergil closes his eyes, swaying on the spot for a second before he takes a step away from Dante's bedroom door. An uneasiness settles upon Vergil's heart like a weight with that step. It's hard to walk away. Vergil doesn't want to walk away but he does. To give Dante space the space that he needs.

It _is_ their seventh birthday—yet again—and to cause a scene, especially in front of their mother, would be inconceivably _bad_. There would be questions, no doubt, and with their father expressly forbidding them from revealing anything about their situation to her… Vergil doesn't dare to think about the consequences that would lie in wait for him or for Dante should their mother be burdened with the knowledge. Then again there would be consequences for hiding something like this from her and while Vergil does understand, to some extent, why their father would want to keep this from her but doing so would only create more problems. From what Vergil recalls their mother was-is a Demonologist and is very adept at warding, so telling her of at least what is to come would be beneficial.

Vergil opens his eyes with the next step he takes and gives Dante's bedroom door a parting glance before he heads to his own bedroom. It is unchanged from Vergil's memories, a detail he hadn't stopped to take in when he had realized that he had been separated from Dante and had rushed off to find him. Vergil still doesn't bother to look around—he doesn't need to—and instead goes straight to his dresser standing in the corner. The clothes within are simple, far simpler than what Vergil had grown accustomed to, but they will suffice for the time being.

It takes Vergil only a few minutes to make himself presentable, leaving him with far too much time on his hands and very little to do until supper, and subsequently the party, starts. Vergil has to resist the urge to go check on Dante and instead decides to go see if their mother needs help finishing up the preparations. The hallways are _perfect_, Vergil's recall even more so excluding his removed memories, and it's difficult for him to not picture what they will look like in a year's time should Mundus' attack actually succeed. There was no sense in them dwelling on the past was what Dante had said to him, something that was easier said than done when they'd literally been thrusted into their past. There isn't anything that they could do to undo it but Vergil was going to do his damnedest to make sure that things go differently this time.

"Vergil! You shouldn't be in here yet!" Eva admonishes with just one glance in Vergil's direction as he enters the dining room. It takes her only a few seconds to fully stop what she is doing and she _looks_ at Vergil again, her lips pursing together. Human as she is, Eva's instincts are as sharp as Yamato's edge and Vergil knows that she can sense that something is wrong. "Sweetie?"

How is a seven year old supposed to speak? The moment that Vergil opens his mouth it will be obvious that he is mentally different from his appearance but if he tells her then it wouldn't even matter. Though it would be preferable for Vergil to wait until after the festivities are over he knows that putting it off will only make it harder to say something because there would never be a good time to do so. "There is something you need to know and it is better if you find out now."


	5. Chapter 5

Eva blinks slightly at Vergil's statement, her brow creasing a little as she frowns, and she sets the tray of silverware down on the end of the table. She can feel that there is something off in the way that Vergil speaks, something off with his tone, the way that he carries himself and the expression he wears. Almost as if he is far older than his seven years. "Something I need to know?" Eva echoes softly, sounding just a bit puzzled.

"Yes and what I have to tell you isn't easy to hear so it would be best if you sat down." Vergil moves with a grace that seems rather unnatural for a child his age as he crosses the dining room and approaches the table.

A pit of dread forms in Eva's gut and she eases herself into a nearby chair, not quite certain that she is prepared for whatever it is that Vergil has to tell her. Eva knows that she isn't going to like it, not in the slightest, but she steels herself as Vergil takes the seat next to hers. "What is it that you need to tell me, sweetie?"

Vergil frowns at the term of endearment, a minuscule expression that Eva wouldn't have noticed had she not been so intently focused on him, but it disappears as quickly as it had formed. "Dante and I are actually forty-three years old. We were targeted by a spell that was likely meant to get rid of us but instead placed us here in our seven year old bodies. Father believes he knows what spell was used on us and has informed us that it cannot be undone."

It's not easy to hear at all. In fact it is far worse than Eva had expected and it feels like something akin to a vice is squeezing her heart. A delicate tremor wracks her hands before she balls them on her lap and Eva has to bite back the sob that wants to tear its way out of her. Eva immediately understands the implications to what Vergil is telling her—she understands that her precious little boys are forever lost to her. It hurts. Oh, does it hurt.

Vergil watches Eva for a moment, his expression seemingly cool and dispassionate. There's only the tiniest flicker of emotion in his eyes, a sort of sorrow that is there one second and gone the next. "That was only Mundus' latest attempt against us. The first attempt came in the form of a demon horde unleashed on Red Grave City and our home the day after our eighth birthday. You were killed in the attack and for a while I had assumed the same of Dante."

The pain brought by Eva's grief is quickly eclipsed by anger, her expression hardening with the mention of Mundus. Sealed as he is the fact that he is involved doesn't surprise Eva in the slightest. That he had taken things _this_ far, even unknowingly, is unforgivable. She will need to have a word or two with Sparda once she has a moment but for now… Right now she needs to know more. "What became of your father?"

"He was called away on a mission a few weeks before the attack and for all we know he vanished. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Mundus was behind that as well." Vergil frowns again, this time in thought, and his gaze briefly leaves Eva's. "I was hunted by the demons that served under Mundus in the years that followed. It was no small feat to survive but I slowly gleaned the knowledge of who Mundus was through those encounters and began to plan his demise."

Vergil pauses slightly, another tiny flicker of emotion passing through his eyes that Eva isn't able to discern this time. "Dante fared somewhat better after the attack. He had managed to evade detection by the demons hunting for us and I suspect part of it was due to the fact that he had taken up a new identity. He was going by Tony Redgrave when I found him and he was hunting demons when he wasn't doing mercenary work."

Vergil pauses again, more deliberately than before, as he carefully chooses what he's going to say next. "Despite Dante's _enthusiasm_ for killing demons I didn't share my plans involving Mundus with him. I couldn't, not when he was all I had left…but I can't help but think that things might have gone differently. We wouldn't have clashed when I raised Temen-ni-gru, I wouldn't have been enslaved by Mundus when I did try to kill him and Dante wouldn't have ended up killing me."

Eva's heart gives a particularly nasty lurch and she briefly clenches her fists, her knuckles going white as her nails bite into her palms. This is absolutely unbearable, knowing what has befallen Dante and Vergil, and Eva wants nothing more than to gather both of them into her arms and weep. The most that does slip through Eva's steely resolve is a few tears, which she pulls out a handkerchief to wipe them away. Once Eva has finished dabbing under her eyes, her mascara smearing and staining the pristine white cloth along with her tears, she draws herself up in her seat and squares her shoulders. "Is that everything?"

"No, only what we've told dad so far." Eva's attention snaps to the doorway to find Dante standing there, his expression guarded. Dante's gaze lingers on Eva for a moment before it shifts to Vergil and there is an almost imperceptible change in his demeanor. Eva can't place it, not at the moment, but she suspects it has everything to do with all that they have suffered. "And dad didn't want us telling you but this makes things _easier_ considering Verge is a shit liar."

Eva inhales sharply as the expletive leaves Dante's mouth while Vergil levels an unimpressed scowl towards him. "I find lying distasteful, little brother, and you would do well to curb your language," Vergil chides in a measured tone.

"I see that we will need to go over what is considered proper etiquette for this household." Eva's voice is soft and calm despite the current turbulence of her emotions, and from her peripheral she notices the subtle shiver that Vergil gives. "Both of you shall attend the lessons."

"That would be for the best," Sparda intones flatly as he appears behind Dante, his gaze firmly fixed on Vergil. For a second Sparda's irises go a bright, glowing crimson while a deep scowl settles onto his face. "You went against my instruction, Vergil."

"And I would do so again if it means staving off Mundus' attack after our next birthday." Vergil's expression is once again cool and dispassionate as he returns Sparda's gaze and after a few seconds Sparda gives a heavy sigh.

"It was my intention to tell you once I had assessed their skills tomorrow," Sparda explains as he shifts his focus to Eva only to flinch from the look that she has leveled on him.

It would appear that Eva needs more than a word or two with Sparda and she _will_ have them. One way or another. "We will discuss why you decided to wait to tell me _later_, Sparda," Eva states in that same sort and calm tone, at which Sparda gives another flinch. "For now let us at least enjoy tonight as much as possible." There's no certainty of how enjoyable the evening will be for any of them, not with the knowledge of what lies ahead on their minds. It is a weight, a terrible one that they are at least sharing in. "Now come help me finish setting the table."


	6. Chapter 6

Dante scowls down at his plate, more specifically at the peas inhabiting a portion of it and proceeds to roll them around with his fork. This earns Dante a pointed look from Eva, at which he sulkily resigns himself to eating the accursed things. Dante goes to crush some onto the end of his fork only for half of them to vanish from right in front of him. Dante pauses with his fork hovering over his peas and he glances across the table to Vergil who studiously ignores the look that Dante gives him. Vergil seems more interested in actually eating, specifically from the suspiciously higher pile of peas that occupies his own plate. Dante returns his attention back to the plate in front of him after staring for a few seconds longer, deciding that if Vergil wants to steal his vegetables then that is perfectly okay with Dante. It doesn't mean that Vergil will be getting a thank you any time soon.

Dante just barely manages to finish off the peas, which was the very last of his meal, when the strained and awkward silence that has persisted through supper thus far is broken by Eva softly clearing her throat. "I know how hard this must be for both of you—I certainly find all of this quite difficult to grasp myself—but there are still rules and boundaries in this household that you will continue to follow regardless of how old you were beforehand. I should not need to remind you of what those I should not need to remind you of what those rules are-" Eva pauses here and looks directly at Dante, her lips pursing with disapproval. "-and the consequences of breaking said rules. It is evident that additional rules need to be made and we will go over _those_ during your etiquette refresher tomorrow."

"Don't we have school tomorrow?" Vergil's question is a welcome change in the flow of the conversation—more like a scolding—even if it does have Dante blinking in confusion. The idea of going to school—of having to **go** to school-hadn't even crossed his mind. It kinda seems pointless given all that they had been through but it's not like Dante can just go back to hunting demons for a living.

Eva looks to Sparda, her brows furrowing as she considers the question. "There is still much that your mother and I need to discuss-" Sparda starts with a faint frown after the silent look he shares with her. "-but given the circumstances it would be best to homeschool both of you."

Dante really shouldn't be surprised that they would want him and Vergil to continue with their education—to Sparda and Eva they are still just kids—but he is surprised. Vergil isn't even bothered by the news at all, which isn't surprising since he always had his nose stuck in a book back when they had actually been seven. "Do we have to do the whole school thing?"

"Yes." Eva's answer is immediate and curt, her gaze narrowing slightly as she focuses solely on Dante. "We will address the matter tomorrow." _With everything else_ hangs in the air unspoken, like a weight. After a beat Eva sighs and her expression softens, a sorrowful smile crossing her face. "I'm sorry, this is-"

"-a lot to take in and process. You look at us and see _your children_, not quite able to grasp what we have gone through as much as you would like to—because why should you? We still look like _your children_, so you want to deny it but you can't because you _know_ that we are **different**—you would have known that something was off even if you hadn't been told—leaving you with no other choice but to accept the awful truth of this situation." Vergil is decisively cold with his explanation, his gaze flat as he looks from Eva to Sparda and then back down to his emptied plate. "I suspect that it was Mundus' intention to remove us from the equation completely instead of placing us in our younger bodies with our memories and knowledge intact."

"Well, the joke's on him then cuz we're not out of the equation **and** he still has Nero to deal with," Dante quips with a grin only to receive a strangely pained look from Vergil. His comment also has their parents exchanging a puzzled glance between themselves before giving Dante and Vergil each a questioning look. It's a natural reaction considering that neither of them know about Nero but Dante isn't really paying attention to their parents right now. No, Dante is focused on Vergil, wondering why Vergil had given him that look.

"There is a high possibility that Nero will cease to exist." There _is_ a note of regret and something else—something dark—in Vergil's voice with his admission but Dante hones in on the regret. Dante also can't help but think that Vergil has to be joking. Vergil _is_ joking, right? Nero **can't** just cease to exist. He can't… can he? "Given that I do not intend to repeat certain _decisions_ it could very well remove him from existence completely for this is a temporal loop and not some alternate reality."

That look that Vergil has becomes almost indescribable, so filled with regret and pain that it has Dante's breath catching in his throat and, oh, Dante cannot mistake just what Vergil means. Dante can't help the sliver of happiness he feels knowing that Vergil won't be leaving him again and yet at the same time Dante resents Vergil for it a whole lot more. Nero _is_ a great kid, maybe a bit rough around the edges, but more importantly he's family. "Verge, he's your kid, he's **family.** You-"

"I was drugged and raped!" Vergil tears his gaze away from Dante's and glares down at his plate as his cheeks darken.

For the span of several heartbeats it is deathly quiet as then all Dante can hear is a dull roar in his ears, like that of a rushing river, as an icy cold rage consumes him. Something inside of Dante _snaps_ and with a snarl his demonic energy surges up, free of whatever had been keeping it at bay. In the blink of an eye Dante is out of his seat and halfway across the dining room, his instincts demanding that he go find whoever had **dared** to commit this sin against **his** other half and spill their blood.

Dante barely makes it to the doorway when he's very suddenly snatched up into the air by the nape of his neck. The grip on Dante is firm and unwavering even when he reaches up and sinks his claws into whatever has a hold on him, a vicious growl rumbling in his throat. A low, deep snarl sounds in response and Dante is swung around so that he is now face to face with Sparda, whose human guise is dispelled. "Dante! Calm yourself!"

"Let me go!" Dante hisses at Sparda with his fangs bared then he kicks at Sparda's head, his left foot connecting with a resounding smack. Sparda's head turns slightly with the force of the kick but he is otherwise unfazed.

"You will calm yourself!" Sparda snarls at Dante again, his own fangs bared as he exerts his energy over Dante in an attempt to make him yield.

Dante narrows his eyes and growls in response, refusing to submit so long as the person who had violated his brother is still out there breathing. That it had been Nero's mother isn't even registering with Dante at this point. All that matters is that Dante protects what is his by any means necessary and, despite their issues, Vergil is still very much _his_. "I said let me go!" Dante digs his claws further in to Sparda's wrist in an effort to loosen the grasp that Sparda has on him and kicks out at Sparda again only to miss as Sparda moves Dante out of range from his face.

"Dante! Cease this foolishness at once!" Vergil's command is sharp and very nearly has Dante stopping his struggle against the hold that their father has on him. Dante can't see Vergil from where he is being dangled in the air but by Vergil's very tone Dante knows that he is scowling.

"Foolishness, Vergil? What's so foolish about wanting to protect what's mine?!" Dante snarls out with a hard flap of his wings and he swings himself bodily up in an effort to free himself. Whether it is due to the extra momentum or because Sparda's grip loosened at Dante's near-screamed question Dante flips out of Sparda's grasp and lands in a crouch. Dante is aware enough of his surroundings to know that the doorway is to his left so before anyone has a chance to react Dante darts out into the hallway and starts racing to the foyer.

A charge purses through the air around Dante not even seconds later followed by a surge of Vergil's demonic energy and Dante has no doubt in his mind that Vergil has also managed to Trigger as well. Knowing just how quickly Vergil can move Dante pushes himself to go faster, not daring to glance over his shoulder to check for Vergil or their father. Neither of them have given chase yet, something Dante normally would have found strange but it currently isn't on his mind.

Dante skids to a halt as he enters the foyer, his senses prickling as a very familiar tear in the fabric of reality appears in front of the doors leading outside. What steps out of the tear—a Yamato-made portal—is definitely Vergil, though he's in a form of Devil Trigger that Dante doesn't immediately recognize and, more importantly, he has Yamato. Dante ignores the sudden impulse to stop and study this unfamiliar form, instead he drops down into a crouch while baring his fangs and growling at Vergil.

"Don't do this, Dante." Vergil's tone is almost a plea as he sheathes Yamato, the portal winking out of existence with no sign of their father. Dante risks a glance down the hallway he had just come from to see if Sparda is coming but the way is clear. "It's just you and me, little brother."

Dante's gaze snaps back to Vergil, focusing on him for a few seconds before it shifts to the doors directly behind him. Dante could _maybe_ make it past Vergil but now that Vergil has Yamato it makes evading him far more difficult in the long run. "You wouldn't hesitate to kill someone if they did the same thing to me, Verge, and you know it!"

"You're right but you're about to go hunt down and kill someone who is currently innocent of what was done to me." Dante _knows_ that Vergil is making a very valid point, one that Dante can't argue against, but it doesn't stop Dante from giving another growl. Vergil puts Yamato away and takes a cautious step towards Dante with his hands raised and his palms up.

Dante shifts back a step only for a sharp pain to shoot up along his spine, making him yelp and lose his balance. Another, stronger burst of pain follows as he lands on his ass and then promptly passes out.


	7. Chapter 7

Vergil immediately dashes across the foyer to get to Dante the very instant he yelps out in pain from trodding on his own tail. It was almost as if Dante had been completely unaware of the slender appendage—though Vergil can't recall Dante having a tail in either of his Trigger forms from before. The addition is certainly surprising, along with the fact that Dante had managed to awaken without needing to be run through with Rebellion, and now Dante has hurt himself twice because of it. There is no second cry of pain that comes from Dante as he lands squarely on his tail, right as Vergil manages to reach him, instead Dante's entire body goes slack while he starts to revert back to his human form.

Vergil reverts back to his own human form as he kneels next to Dante, frowning when the process seems to halt for his brother, leaving him with claws, fangs, wings and the troublesome tail. It quickly becomes evident that it is not just Dante who is stuck in some sort of partial Trigger state because when Vergil's own demonic energy seems to stabilize he too is left with the exact same demonic features. It is _worrying_ since this had never happened to either of them before but then again they both had been considerably older when they had first awakened. Could it be that their current bodies are unable to handle the demonic blood being active and is causing this partial transformation? As much as Vergil wants to scrutinize this Dante is the more pressing concern, especially since their clothes have reformed with this partial reversion to human state and is unable to accommodate their extra appendages.

Footsteps echo from down the hallway as Vergil gently rolls Dante over onto his stomach, leathery jet black wings tucked to his sides, and quickly assesses Dante's clothes. Dante's shirt has thankfully slid up on its own to allow for his wings but the pants are more problematic, having trapped his tail which could very well be broken with how he had landed on it. Vergil knows he has precious little time before Dante's regenerative abilities kick in so he shreds the seat of Dante's pants right as their parents reach the foyer.

Eva gives a strangled gasp as she catches sight of them, probably misconstruing what Vergil is doing at first glance, but Sparda stops her with a softly spoken, "Eva, wait." Vergil spares them a brief look, noting the way that Eva's lips are turned down into a severe frown while Sparda merely seems curious, then he returns his attention to Dante and carefully pulls his pitch-scaled tail out.

"Dante has never had a tail in either of his Trigger forms _before_." It is perhaps easier to start there and at the same time draw Eva's focus on their remaining inhuman features. "So he not only managed to step on it but also landed on directly." Vergil examines the appendage from spaded-tip to the base of it, painstakingly feeling for even the most minuscule of breakage through touch alone. The task is made more difficult by Dante being unconscious, limiting Vergil's ability to assess the extent of the damage if there is any. Vergil can only that their sturdier nature has mitigated or even outright prevented such an injury but there will be no certainty of it until Dante regains consciousness. "While we do have phenomenal regenerative capabilities I do not trust them to heal every bit of damage we incur perfectly."

Vergil spares them both another glance when they remain silent, Eva's scowl tempered by understanding while Sparda still looks quite curious. "My own initial form _also_ lacked a tail and I suspect that by having forced our demonic blood out of dormancy so early has not only impacted the appearance of our forms but that it is much too strong for us to be able to fully revert back to our human forms." At least this time Vergil's tail isn't protruding the middle of his spine, which had been rather _interesting_ to say the least. "It would seem that Dante still has an incredible amount of luck," Vergil remarks as he lets go of Dante's tail, unable to find anything that would suggest a serious injury, and leans back so that he is almost sitting in seiza. There is a twinge of discomfort from Vergil's own trapped tail, something he remedies without second thoughts in regards to the presence of Sparda and Eva.

"I will call the tailor tomorrow morning and see that they come make some alterations to your clothing," Eva says wearily after a few seconds. Her resignation is clear, their sudden physical changes something that Eva is left with no choice but to accept. It will take Eva longer, if ever, to accept that they mentally older. As for Vergil's admission that had brought them to this precise moment—along with the news that the vile occurrence had produced a child—Vergil knows by the way that Eva looks at him that she _wants_ to say something.

"I was eighteen and arrogant enough to believe that I was untouchable, especially when it came to _humans_. They were weak, after all, so what could they possibly do to _me_, the half-demon son of the Legendary Dark Knight? That it had happened at all had been a shock and, yes, I was ashamed but that quickly turned to anger and fear. Anger at myself for the fact that it had happened, that I had—in some way—been too weak to prevent it and fear that if this could happen to me then it could also happen to Dante. I never stopped to think of the possibility that there would be a child, that that was the intention of my rapist, my only concern was keeping Dante safe from demons _and_ humans." It's as close as Vergil will get to admitting that he hadn't known of Nero's existence up until now, never mind that he had never wanted Nero in the first place. More to the point, Vergil had no desire to have children since it wasn't possible for him to have them with Dante. **That** is something that Vergil has no intention of sharing with their parents, at least not right away.

Vergil casts his gaze back down to Dante's still form, his fingers flexing briefly before he curls his hands into fists while his tail lashes behind him. "Why leave it out when it obviously had such an impact on me? Far worse things are to come and I felt it unnecessary to bring the matter up to _you_ when it won't happen again. I have no intention of going anywhere near Fortuna and the Order of the Sword sycophants and I certainly have no intention of letting Dante go anywhere near Fortuna either."

Eva gives a shuddering sort of inhale and leans into Sparda for support, tears in her eyes as her expression twists with a new kind of grief. "Vergil…" Eva's voice trails off, pained and confused by Vergil's decision to leave this out until Dante had brought up Nero, and the look that she gives Vergil is definitely wounded.

"Let me rephrase that; I have had twenty-five years to come to terms with what had happened and discussing it further will only serve to upset you even more." Truthfully Vergil had only come to terms with it and everything else more recently through his self-inflicted bisection and through V's existence, but it was something that had been there, at the back of Vergil's mind, throughout all of those years except the decade where he had been _dead_. **That** particular time was completely lost to Vergil, rather it was as if it simply didn't exist at all. There had been no sense of awareness in death, nothing to grasp on to, and Vergil is only bothered by it for the simple fact of it being ten years that are just gone. Ten years that Dante had to live through while Vergil had ceased to _be_.

Exhaustion comes over Vergil with little warning and, for a few seconds, he is confused at to why he is tired as he fights off a yawn. Even though Vergil had Triggered hundreds of times before, this had been the first time for his current body and the initial Trigger—the awakening—always consumes a lot of energy. The realization hits Vergil as his eyelids droop and he starts to tip forwards, and he just barely catches himself from toppling over onto Dante. It is a struggle to stay upright, let alone awake, and as Vergil starts to fall over again it is into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

It is hard for Sparda to think as a human would in this situation, even harder for him to act like one should. Sparda's curiosity in regards to Dante and Vergil's altered physical forms, as well as their demonic ones, is taking precedence when he knows that he should, in fact, be worried. And possibly a whole slew of other human emotions. Well, he _is_ worried and upset but that has more to do with what Mundus has done to his nestlings than it has to do with what had happened to Vergil in Fortuna. Still, both of his nestlings had accomplished something he hadn't thought possible for them and he _wants_ to know more. It is almost a pity that both of them are unconscious.

Sparda should do something about that, like put them to bed. It's the sensible thing to do at the moment but there is also another matter that needs to be dealt with. Eva. She is still leaning against Sparda for support, her scent twisted up just like her emotions. Sparda can sense them, more acutely than ever, but he does not take pity on her. Eva is strong. She is resilient. It is one of the reasons why Sparda had chosen her to bear his nestlings. She just needs time to adjust.

"Go. I will put them to bed and take care of cleaning up supper," Sparda urges in what he hopes is a gentle enough tone. Eva staggers only a little as she pulls away from him with a jerky nod then slowly makes her way up the staircase to their bedroom. Sparda watches after her only for a few seconds before he turns his focus back to Dante and Vergil and approaches them.

Try as Sparda might to suppress his burning curiosity he can't help but study his nestlings even as he kneels down beside them. Their wings jut out from the small of their backs, almost where their hips are positioned. It is a strange placement for their wings and Sparda wonders if they'll be able to achieve flight like this, but that is something he _will_ have to wait on an answer for. Their tails are another intriguing aspect, whipcord thin and with spaded tips that reminds Sparda of what humans think to be intrinsic to devils. The humans are wrong, of course, but that is neither here nor there. Sparda won't be of much help to his nestlings in regards to their tails but Vergil seems to have experience with them, so Sparda will have to see to it that Vergil teaches Dante to adjust to having a tail.

All that leaves is their sharp little claws and their fangs. Formidable natural weapons with the proper training, something that Sparda is now looking forward to with all that he wants to teach his nestlings. Oh, there is so much that Sparda wants to teach them. Skills that will go hand in hand with their demonic forms, this _Trigger_ as Vergil had called it. Sparda is absolutely giddy at the thought, something he hadn't felt since their birth, but he knows that now is not the time for giddiness. Now is not the time to feed into his curiosity.

Sparda carefully and gently picks Vergil and then Dante up and with a bit of maneuvering he positions them so that their heads are resting on his shoulders. It isn't easy to carry both of them at the same time, not anymore, but Sparda isn't one for doing things the easy way and he gets the sense that separating them for any amount of time, even while they are unconscious, won't end well.

It is abundantly clear that Vergil and Dante view each other as mates. No other conclusion can be drawn from all that Sparda has seen and heard from his nestlings this evening and he isn't bothered by it in the slightest. Sparda knows that humans frown upon such a thing, that they call it incest, but demons have no such qualms. Blood relations doesn't matter to demons when it comes to taking a mate, only power does. They will be powerful, his precious nestlings, yet that doesn't seem to be a factor in why they have chosen each other. No, what they have seems to be built upon emotion.

Sparda frowns faintly as he carries them upstairs and to Vergil's bedroom while he contemplates on that. Emotion isn't beyond Sparda nor any other demon but emotions register with demons differently. They are stronger and beyond comprehension for demons themselves so Sparda can only guess at what it would be like for his nestlings. It is indescribable, inconceivable even, when Sparda considers that human blood amplifies everything for a demon and as hybrids… It would be folly to try and come between them.

Sparda eases his way into Vergil's bedroom and carefully treads through the room to leave behind as little of his scent as possible. It is a subconscious effort—a deeply ingrained instinct—on Sparda's part to respect the space as Vergil's. Sparda is even more careful as he sets them down on the bed, with Dante placed on the side furthest from the door. Another subconscious, instinctive move on Sparda's part that should appeal to Vergil's obsessive need to keep Dante safe—a feeling that Sparda understands quite well.

Sparda doesn't dare to linger once he sets his nestlings down, tracking out of the room just as carefully as he had entered it. One final glance at them before Sparda quietly closes the door has the corners of his mouth curving upward ever so slightly.


	9. Chapter 9

Vergil dreams of nothingness—a vast and gaping maw of blackness that just stretches on and on as far as the eye can see. It is neither warm nor cold, simply a sense of being without touch, taste smell and sound. It is disconcerting, yet almost as soon as Vergil becomes aware of it the dream is gone and he awakens encased in warmth. A very much alive warmth that is Dante.

They are in Vergil's bed, as far as he can tell, and Dante has decided to cling to Vergil in his sleep. Dante has his head tucked beneath Vergil's chin, their legs are tangled together and Dante even has a wing curled over Vergil's hip. Vergil's tail gives a slight twitch and he finds that that too has been entangled by Dante, the end of it completely and tightly entwined with Dante's own tail.

There is little that Vergil can do to extract himself from their otherwise intimate position, which he honestly doesn't even want to do. It has been far too long since Vergil has gotten to hold Dante, that he doesn't deserve to at this moment but he stays put and basks in Dante's warmth.

After several peaceful minutes Dante begins to stir, his face nuzzling into Vergil's neck while he gives a sleepy purr. It doesn't last at all because Dante stiffens the moment he is fully awake and aware of his surroundings, his tail attempting to lash but to no avail. For several breathless seconds Dante does nothing else…

It's the first time in twenty-four years that Dante has slept without some form of nightmare plaguing him. In fact, Dante hadn't slept so well since they had last shared a bed, making it twenty-five years. Twenty-five long years spent without the comfort of Vergil's touch, without the heat of Vergil's body next to his, without the taste of Vergil on his tongue. Words can't describe the ache that Dante had felt when Vergil had walked out on him without any sort of warning back when they had been eighteen, having spent almost two years together by that point. Two years of a love that had consumed Dante so completely that Vergil's leaving had had nearly left him broken.

Temen-ni-gru had nearly destroyed Dante, had honed that ache in a pain that couldn't be soothed, and then Mallet… Dante's worst nightmares are of his time spent on Mallet. Of having to fight the blackened angel time and time again only to discover the awful truth after the final blow had been dealt by Dante's own hand. That Dante had killed Vergil, his brother, whom he had assumed to be dead after his fall into the Underworld. The only person Dante loves with every breath in his body and every beat of his heart. Dante had been utterly shattered by Mallet—had taken years to finally accept that he would live an incomplete existence—only for his reason to truly live to return in one of the most fucked up ways ever.

Dante had been prepared to kill the horror that Vergil had become but when he had finally found himself standing before Urizen, the demonic half of Vergil, Dante was unable to follow through. Instead Dante had hoped and wished that Vergil would return to him, no matter how monstrous his form had become, until his hand had been pushed at the very last second. Dante had almost killed Vergil _again_ and then **V**—it should have been so fucking obvious—waltzed right on in for the _killing blow_. V, with that goddamn book and the poetry that Vergil had so loved spilling from his lips—the human side of Vergil that Dante had been too blind to notice until that very moment—had swooped in and changed _everything_.

"_While thy branches mix with mine and our roots together join."_

It is only half of the beginning stanza from William Blake's Love and Harmony Combine, which Vergil had offered to Dante in whole countless times as way to profess his love for Dante—to the point that it is etched into Dante's soul alongside Vergil's name. For V to have used those particular verses, it had shaken Dante in a way that he hadn't expected. Dante certainly hadn't expected just how much it had hurt to hear it, even in part, nor did he expect the sudden and overwhelming urge to fall into Vergil's arms as soon as he had reappeared whole and hale, as if nothing had ever happened. As if Vergil hadn't left Dante twice already. As if Vergil's blood doesn't stain Dante's hands.

So Dante's first reaction upon waking and realizing that he is in Vergil's arms is to panic. That Vergil had implied that he wasn't going to be leaving Dante isn't something that Dante can trust. Not after everything Dante has endured.

…and then he tries to push away from Vergil only to find that he is rather stuck. "Let me go!"

Vergil tries to not focus on the desperation and panic that colors Dante's voice, instead he fixates on the fact that Dante doesn't seem to realize that he now has a few extra limbs to account for. "You have a wing wrapped around me." Vergil's tone is soft as he meets Dante's frightened gaze and he can't help but think how odd it is to see Dante so scared. The expression is quickly replaced by confusion and disbelief but not quick enough. "We did not fully revert from our Trigger forms and we were left with a few of our more demonic _features_."


	10. Chapter 10

Dante wants to think that it shouldn't be possible, that this is just some excuse on Vergil's part, but sure enough he looks down and there is indeed a wing—_his_ wing—curled around Vergil. It's strange to not take notice of something so very significant until it's pointed out to him but now that Dante is aware of it he also notices something else. A feeling that Dante is completely unfamiliar with, an oddly pleasant pressure that is not quite on his spine. Dante doesn't quite know how to interpret this new sensation but right now he only cares about getting away from Vergil so he quickly withdraws his wing from around Vergil and tries to put some distance between them.

"You're going to hurt yourself again." Vergil's softly spoken warning has Dante faltering slightly and keeps him from moving to the far corner of the bed, and at the same time Dante feels a sort of tug on the base of his spine. That pleasant pressure from before has changed, not quite pain, and has Dante falling flat on his face as his whole body goes weak. Vergil sighs from behind Dante and moves closer, making the pressure on the base of Dante's spine vanish. "You also have a tail."

Dante is admittedly stunned by the news that he has a tail, a concept that is completely alien to him, but he doesn't know how else to process the sensations coming from _his tail_. Dante's not sure about how much he likes the idea of having a tail if it's gonna make him fall on his face with what had barely even been a tug. A shiver runs up Dante's spine as a far more delicate pressure is applied to his tail and Dante can't immediately parse just what the hell is going on but he has gained enough strength to push himself up.

"Stay still, Dante, I'm almost done." For a second Dante actually contemplates Vergil's softly spoken command but then Dante realizes what's happening and whips around anyways, his wings spreading out as he gives a hiss. Dante's tail is all but ripped out of Vergil's grasp to sweep behind him where it lashes with his renewed anger. Vergil gives Dante a pained look as he puts some space between them with his hands raised. "Dante, I-"

"Save it!" Dante snarls out, earning a flinch from Vergil, and briefly digs his fingers into the bedding which is accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric. For a few seconds Vergil looks hesitant, his eyes wide and imploring, before his expression steels with resolve.

"We _need_ to talk, Dante." If Vergil's angry then he doesn't show it, his voice calm and controlled while his gaze is steady and unblinking. Dante wants to laugh at the thought of there being anything to talk about, the time for that long since past, but Vergil is determined to be heard. "I never wanted any of this for you, Dante. I only wanted to keep you safe-"

"-but you weren't **strong** **enough**. I heard you loud and clear _yesterday_," Dante interrupts with a sneer, uncaring of whether or not that was the point that Vergil is trying to make. "No, if we're going to _talk_, Vergil, then let's talk about how you broke my goddamn heart with that shit! _You_ abandoned me! Not once but twice! Dress it up however the fuck you want but it does not change the fact that you _left_! You left me and I assumed the worst! For **nine years** I thought you were as good as dead and then…" Dante's voice trails off as all of the pain wells up inside of him, a lump starting to form in his throat. Dante tries to swallow it down as best as possible, drawing in a shuddering breath that doesn't help at all, and presses on. "I killed you… I _killed_ you and may as well have died with you on that day."

"Dante…" it comes out in a whisper, Vergil's expression becoming stricken while his eyes glint wetly. If Vergil is going to apologize then Dante doesn't want to hear it. Dante can't do this again. As much as Dante still loves Vergil, as much as he wants him, he simply can't. It hurts _too_ much.

"All I ever wanted was to be _with_ you. I would have done anything for you, I would have gone anywhere with you, but you never even gave me that chance and I…" Dante's voice cracks as warm tears start to trail down his cheeks. Dante gives a sharp shake of his head then quickly wipes at the tears with the back of his arm. "I need to go." Before Dante spills his heart out to Vergil any further.


	11. Chapter 11

Vergil had thought that maybe, just maybe, Dante would be willing to finally hear him out, to let Vergil explain that he hadn't been able to bear the thought of any sort of harm befalling Dante. Instead it is Vergil who had hurt Dante far worse than any other was capable of, both physically and emotionally, and realizing that is far more crushing than the absolute fact that Vergil had indeed abandoned Dante. That Vergil had been wholly selfish and self-serving. That Vergil had incorrectly assumed Dante to be far too human.

It should have been clear right from the start that Dante felt emotions as demons did, emotions as demons did, as Vergil does. Heightened to the extreme, beyond all rational thought and well out of the scope of what any language could ever possibly convey, never any less. So it should have been clear that Dante's love for Vergil is as boundless as Vergil's is for Dante, that there would never be room for another in Dante's heart, that they were the only ones ever able to complete the other.

Dante is justifiably angry at Vergil, the pain that Vergil had inflicted upon Dante so deeply rooted, and it feels like no amount of apologizing will ever make up for what Vergil has done. Vergil can live with Dante's anger, for it is no less than what Vergil deserves, but those four words… Vergil's heart constricts at those four words, the pain so acute that it feels as if Vergil might die, and Vergil moves before he can even begin to process what he is doing. With those four words the slim grasp that Vergil had on his emotions is completely severed, a wail escaping Vergil as he barrels into Dante and sends the both of them toppling off of the corner of the bed.

They land on the hardwood floor in a tangle of limbs, Dante taking the brunt of the fall, and Vergil desperately clings to him with his face buried in his chest. For several seconds Dante is still beneath Vergil, his body stiff, and then at the slightest shift Vergil tightens his hold on Dante, fearing that Dante will push him away. That Dante will leave him as he had left Dante and as hypocritical of Vergil as it is he cannot let Dante go.

A violent tremble runs through Vergil as Dante's hands come to lightly rest upon his shoulders and Vergil sobs as he screws his eyes shut, expecting the worst. Instead of pushing Vergil away Dante wraps his arms around Vergil, the tension draining from Dante's body, and Dante gives a softly muttered, "Damnit."

All that Vergil had wanted to say prior is lost in the overwhelming surge of emotions he had tried to suppress for so long, even going as far as casting them off with his humanity, and now all Vergil can manage is an, "I'm sorry," that is whimpered out between sobs. A short, simple phrase that will do little to ease Dante's pain but Vergil speaks it nevertheless. Vergil absolutely means it.

Dante gives a sob of his own, his claws digging in to the back of Vergil's shirt before he tightens his embrace even further. "I know," Dante whispers, voice cracked with the rawness of his pain, and curls his wings around Vergil. It is a comfort that Vergil knows he doesn't deserve, much like Vergil doesn't deserve Dante, but Vergil is all the more grateful to receive such a gesture. "Love and harmony combine and around our souls entwine, while thy branches mix with mine and our roots together join."

A lump forms in Vergil's throat at Dante's recitation of Love and Harmony Combine's first stanza, the very same that Vergil had uttered to Dante time and again before he had left him. For Dante to recite it _to_ Vergil now, after all of the pain and heartache he has suffered because of Vergil… Vergil truly does not deserve Dante. "Dante…"

"It hurt a whole hell of a lot—it still hurts—but I-" Dante pauses and Vergil is certain that Dante is worrying his lower lip without even needing to look up at him, Dante's body giving a subtle quiver beneath Vergil's. "-I still love you so damn much. I thought that I could maybe deal with trying not to, that I could just go back to how things were before you returned, but it all hurts so much more without you, like-"

"-you can hardly think, let alone focus on anything else, and it feels like the air is slowly being stolen from your lungs. It feels like you're dying, endlessly, and it only worsens the longer you are away." Vergil knows how it feels all too well, having chosen to suffer it for himself, but he shouldn't have forced that upon Dante. "And when you are finally reunited you can breathe again—you can finally live again."

Dante goes silent for what feels like an eternity and then his arms loosen around Vergil, his hands grasping at Vergil's arms. "Vergil, look at me." Dante speaks just barely above a whisper, his claws briefly digging into Vergil's arms.

Vergil lifts his head up with a sniffle, his vision blurring temporarily as he opens his eyes to gaze upon Dante. Dante's eyes are reddened and puffy from crying, likely a perfect mirror of Vergil's own, and there are tears clinging to Dante's lashes. A worn smile flits across Dante's face, marred by two and a half decades worth of grief, and Dante reaches up to push Vergil's sleep-tousled hair back. It is unexpected and touching all the same, bringing a ghost of a smile to Vergil's lips.

"I'm sorry too," Dante starts, bringing his fingers down to graze them along Vergil's jaw. "It hurt just as much for you, if not more, and I didn't want to acknowledge that." Dante's touch lingers, the tips of his claws a feather-light pressure on Vergil's skin. "It always seemed like you were so fucking impervious, that nothing could move you, but I was wrong. You were moved by love."

It is _so_ much more than that, Vergil's love for Dante just a mere fraction of the reason. "You, Dante. I was moved by you and always have been. You, my heart and my soul, my everything, my motivation, my reason… I am alive, here and now, because of you." Vergil can recall that he had wanted to fight Dante one last time, to defeat Dante and prove that he was superior once and for all but that was wrong. Vergil had been little more than a shell of himself—he remembers that much—a twisted and corrupted remnant. Though Mundus' control over Vergil had long since been severed there had still been some lingering effects, all of which are thankfully gone with his reformation.

"God, Verge, you're so fucking extra sometimes," Dante says with a sniffle and a few more shed tears. "And don't you dare tell me that you were dying." There's a bite to Dante's voice with those words and, just underneath it, fear.

"Then I shall not tell you." Dante gives Vergil a heatless glare along with several more tears. "I am in no danger of dying, Dante, so cease your worrying."

"I think I will be keeping an eye on you after all," Dante grumbles out.

"Is that a promise, Dante?" There is a quick blink-and-you'll-miss-it flicker of surprise in Dante's eyes at Vergil's question and then the corners of Dante's mouth twitch before a smile settles there.

"Yes, that's a promise, Vergil." Dante's touch vanishes, his hand dropping down to rest on his chest where Vergil's tears have dampened his shirt. "And you, promise me that you won't leave me again"

"I promise to never leave you again, Dante." Vergil drops his head back down onto Dante's chest, trapping Dante's hand there, and rubs his cheek against the back of Dante's hand. The temptation for Vergil to close his eyes and to bask in Dante's scent is strong but they are due to get up and-

"Boys, it's past time to wake up," Sparda calls out to them as he opens the door to the bedroom and sticks his head in. Vergil wonders about just how long their father had been outside of the door and listening in on them because Sparda spots them straight away where they're sprawled out on the floor by the foot of his bed at the far end of the room.

Though this is their parents' house and they their children Vergil finds the intrusion of what he views to be _his_ domain a touch bothersome. More than that, a low growl of warning bubbles up in Vergil's throat and he lifts his head from Dante's chest to bare his fangs at Sparda, his tail lashing with anger.

Sparda merely chuckles, as if amused by Vergil's territorial and possessive display, then sends out a low pulse of his own energy that has Vergil flinching and stopping his growling short. "You still have quite a ways to go before that will have any sort of effect on me, Vergil." Yes, Sparda is definitely amused and quite proud. "Now get up and go take a bath, both of you. Breakfast is ready and with any luck the tailor will be here soon."


	12. Chapter 12

Dante stares up at Vergil, not quite sure as to what's going on between him and their father or why it makes him feel _happy_ and _safe_. It's a little strange—at least Dante thinks so—but it's also nice and considering that Dante hasn't felt happy or safe for the past twenty-five years he's not gonna question why he feels this way _now_.

A soft, sweet note—a gentle and happy chirp—rings out and Vergil looks down at Dante with surprise while Sparda wisely closes the door to leave them be. Dante blinks slowly then tilts his head, puzzled as to why Vergil is looking at him like he had done something—which he had but he just doesn't realize it yet. After a moment of silence the corners of Vergil's mouth twitch upwards into a faint smile and he finally moves off of Dante.

Dante slowly sits up as Vergil stands and winces slightly when his tail twinges, as if to remind Dante of its existence, which doesn't go unnoticed by Vergil. Concern flickers in Vergil's eyes while a frown replaces his smile and Vergil extends a hand for Dante to take. Dante could ignore it, would have ignored it ten minutes ago, but he takes it instead and lets Vergil pull him to his feet.

"Are you okay?" Vergil asks softly as he keeps hold of Dante's hand.

It's such a small thing to take note of, that Vergil hasn't let go, and yet it is so profoundly important to Dante. Dante doesn't want Vergil to let go, not for a while, but the world will not wait for them. "Yeah, just not used to the whole having a tail thing," Dante answers softly and he clutches Vergil's hand with his a little tighter.

"Well, we can get used to having tails and wings and claws together because I'm certain they won't be going away any time soon," Vergil ways with a gentle squeeze and a brush of his thumb across the back of Dante's hand. "And we should get going before mother comes to fetch us."

"Why won't they be going away?" Dante asks, curious as to why they didn't fully revert from their Triggers. He lets his hand drop to his side when Vergil finally lets go of it and absently flexes his fingers.

"Because father has always been an incredibly powerful demon and despite the fact that he has cut into his own power numerous times he is still insanely powerful and a great deal of _that_ power was passed on to us when we were conceived," Vergil explains candidly, at which Dante gives him a look of disgust.

"Okay, first, ew. I don't want to think about mom and dad fucking for any reason. Second of all, just what does any of _that_ have to do with us not being able to change back completely?" Dante doesn't get it and he really doesn't want to have to think about it either. Just gross. Vergil better have a good reason for even bringing this up because Dante is liable to punch him for making him think of their parents having sex.

"Because it has everything to do with _us_ as the _**identical twin**__ half-demon sons of Sparda_. Naturally occurring identical twins are already rare among humans and completely unheard-"

"Just get to the damn point already, Vergil," Dante interrupts tersely as Vergil seems to go off on an unnecessary tangent. "And **without** bringing mom and dad fucking into it."

Vergil stares at Dante for a moment then dips his head in acknowledgement of Dante's request. "Our awakened demonic blood is far too strong for us as we currently are to be able to fully revert back to our human forms."

"That was all that you needed to say from the get go, Verge," Dante states blandly and with a flat expression.

"I was merely trying to enlighten you on the underlying cause of our _issue_, Dante, but if you don't want to know then it's fine. I never would have thought that _you_ would be so squeamish about the details." Vergil shrugs slightly then moves past Dante with a sort of effortlessness that Dante feels he won't be able to match at the moment.

"I don't care if it makes me squeamish." Dante turns, frowning slightly as he thinks about where his tail should go and almost immediately trips over it as it winds around his legs with a mind of its own. Dante catches himself on the side of the bed just in time to prevent himself from falling flat on his face and the near tumble doesn't go unnoticed by Vergil. "How do ya make it look so damn easy?" Dante asks as Vergil pauses to watch him with obvious concern.

"I don't try to control my tail if that's what you're getting at." Vergil cants his head slightly then continues on over to his dresser. "It's kind of like breathing. You don't think about each time you inhale and exhale, or how deep or how fast of a breath you take. It is an automatic and unconscious function that your body simply performs. It is entirely instinctive."

"So don't think about my tail?" Dante asks as he carefully unwraps the troublesome limb from around his legs.

"Yes and no. You need to remain aware of it so that you don't step on it or trip over it but… well, just move as you normally would and it should adjust automatically." Vergil rifles through his dresser for just a few seconds and when he turns back to Dante he is holding two sets of clean clothes.

Dante frowns a little more then lets go of his tail, allowing it to drop to the ground, and takes a step away from the side of the bed. His tail swishes out of the way and sweeps behind him, and while Dante shouldn't be surprised that the solution is so stupidly simple he can't help but feel a little surprised that it works. "How'd you figure it out so quickly when we were on top of the Qliphoth?"

"Instinct," Vergil says with a tone that suggests that the answer should have been obvious then jerks his head towards the door leading to the bathroom. "I trust you can make it on your own."

Dante glowers half-heartedly at Vergil for the implication that he needs help with _this_ then makes his way over to the bathroom. Dante is a little wobbly with his first few steps but he makes it all the way without tripping over his own tail. "I think I'll be just fine."


	13. Chapter 13

Vergil refrains from responding, instead giving Dante a slight smirk, and follows after him. The bathroom is huge, at least it seems so from Vergil's perspective as a seven-year-old, with a sizable clawfoot tub taking up nearly a third of the space. It is exceedingly, and unnecessarily, lavish for a child's bathroom and Vergil longs for the cramped quarters of the flat that he had shared with Dante before things had all gone to hell for them a second time.

"Christ, this place was always a bit much, wasn't it?" Dante asks as he makes his way over to the tub, looking around the bathroom like it's the very first time he's ever seen it.

"It was," Vergil agrees as he sets down the clean clothes for them on an empty shelf just inside of the doorway. "It still is."

"Yeah, it still is," Dante echoes then starts removing his clothes. He leaves them in pile by the tub, saying nothing about the shredded seat of his pants, and reaches for the knobs to turn the water on. The pipes rattle slightly and then seconds later icy cold water gushes out of the faucet.

"It'll take a few minutes for the water to heat up," Vergil comments as he watches Dante stick his hand under the torrent of water from his peripheral.

"It never took that long back when we had our own place," Dante mutters almost sullenly and he pulls his hand out from under the water.

"Oh, it did take that long, Dante, I was just able to keep you better occupied back then." Vergil quite likes the blush that steals across Dante's face while Dante no doubt recalls just how he had been kept occupied. Things that they won't get to do for some time. "If there's one thing that I hate the most about this whole mess then it's that I can't fully act on my instincts the way that I want to when it comes to you."

"Why can't you?" Dante asks sincerely, his tail perking up with interest as he turns his entire focus onto Vergil.

"We're physically seven-years-old, for one," Vergil answers a little dryly and he starts removing his own clothes. "Though my instincts don't seem to care about that fact one iota because I want nothing more than to ravage you and lay proper claim to you right now." Because when Vergil looks at Dante he doesn't see Dante as a child but as his mate, pure and unclaimed. Vergil wants to attribute this to their mental age, their _actual_ age, but it goes beyond just that with his instincts being involved. Maybe it would have been different if Vergil hadn't forced his demonic blood to awaken in this body so early—Vergil has doubts even about that—but there's no definitive way to be sure and they can't force their blood back into dormancy. "And while father, as a demon, might not care about whether we have sex or not I am certain that mother would want us to wait until we are of age."

Dante doesn't say anything right away, instead he's watching Vergil in a way that suggests that even his instincts are telling him something along the same lines. For a few seconds Dante sways where he's standing before he gives a shake of his head. "And when will that be?"

"When we are sixteen." Vergil feels as disappointed as Dante looks with his answer, his brother's tail drooping while his wings, which had been folded and drawn up to his sides, drop down so that the tips are touching the floor.

"That's nine years away!" Dante protests sullenly and with a bit of a whine.

"I know and I don't like it either but there's nothing we can do about it, Dante, except to wait those years out." Vergil gathers up his slightly worn clothes and adds them to the pile that Dante made as he joins Dante by the tub. The water is just starting to get warm when Vergil checks on the temperature of it himself and will take a couple more minutes to get hot enough. "Not because some human law said so but for mother's sake."

Dante considers that for a few seconds then gives a dejected sigh. "You're right."

"I don't want to be," Vergil states forcefully as he stoppers the drain to let the tub fill up. "I don't want for us to have to wait so long but I-"

"I get it," Dante interrupts with a faint smile. "I don't want to upset mom either but being stuck as a kid kinda sucks."

"Well, if I knew a spell or something that would make us age faster then I'd use it, anyone else's feelings on the matter and all of the consequences be damned," Vergil grits out and his tail lashes slightly.

"Maybe dad knows of something that could do that," Dante suggests as he moves closer to Vergil. Their wings end up touching, lightly pressing together between their sides, and the sensation from that is decidedly nice.

A sense of calm washes over Vergil and he finds himself leaning into Dante as he contemplates the possibility of their father knowing a spell or a solution that could make them age faster. The idea has merit given that Sparda is well over two thousand years old and it wouldn't hurt to, at the very least, ask. "We can ask him after breakfast."

"And I can ask him for Rebellion too while we're at it," Dante adds a bit thoughtfully.

"I doubt you'll need to ask father for Rebellion. He did say that he wanted to assess our skills today and I doubt that's changed just because we're partially triggered." If anything it is even more of a reason to take stock of what they are both capable of and to start training as soon as possible. Not only to prepare for the inevitable attack on their home but so that they can better adapt to their new forms. There shouldn't be a need for them to have to adapt to their partial trigger state but Dante's initial trouble with his tail suggests otherwise.

"You better not hold back on me if we get to spar," Dante asserts and Vergil's budding concern over Dante potentially hurting himself vanishes.

"Then you better not hold back on me either," Vergil counters as he lets the water for just a few more seconds, until the tub is just under half full, then turns it off. "Go ahead and get in,"Vergil instructs as he steps away from Dante's side to go over to the sink.

Dante hesitates, his gaze following Vergil, and his tail quivers slightly before curling along the inside of his right leg. "What about you?"

"I'm just getting the soap," Vergil answers casually as he picks up a bar of soap, unscented, from the count and holds it up for Dante to see.

"Oh." The relief in Dante's voice is palpable and he even looks a little sheepish as Vergil returns to his side with the soap in hand.

"Just get in before the water gets cold," Vergil instructs, deciding against chastising Dante for whatever it was he had thought Vergil had intended. It will take time to fully restore Dante's trust in him and so Vergil expects that there will be more moments like these where Dante might doubt him. Vergil can't fault Dante for that one bit. "I know how much you hate it when the water gets cold."

"Yeah, well, that's something I had to get over because there wasn't enough money for the rent and the utilities," Dante all but grumbles bitterly as he climbs into the tub.

"And why was that?" It makes no sense because Dante should have had access to what was left of the family fortune—a truly sizable amount that would have allowed for Dante to live quite comfortably for a very long time without needing to work at all and without even being able to put a dent in the overall wealth.

"Because demon hunting didn't always pay the bills," Dante answers quietly and ducks his head to avoid meeting Vergil's gaze. "And after Temen-ni-gru I was in a very bad frame of mind and I did a bunch of stupid shit so that I could try and forget you."


End file.
